


International Rescue Coffee

by I_is_a_freak, navigatorsnorth



Category: Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons, New Captain Scarlet, Stingray (UK TV), Thunderbirds
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anderson Fusion of sorts, Coffeeshop AU, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-31 10:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6466603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_is_a_freak/pseuds/I_is_a_freak, https://archiveofourown.org/users/navigatorsnorth/pseuds/navigatorsnorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott wasn't sure if taking the reins of a multimillion dollar company straight out of the Air Force was for him so he came up  with a simple idea, to start a cafe. His brothers, on the other hand, are about to turn his simple idea into, well, something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Give me a week and I'll get back to you

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as "haha wouldn't it be great to use the old trope" which has turn into but how/why would they do that and has become a very involved universe to stay tuned for more.

International Rescue Coffee 

~~~  
CHAPTER ONE: Give me a week and I'll get back to you  
~~~

Scott sat on a bench watching the world move around him. Floating ever since his discharge from the Air Force, his father had been talking about joining Tracy Enterprises but Scott didn't think he could. His heart just wasn’t in corporate business and being expected to run a multimillion dollar company…

“Scott?” 

“Huh?” Scott snapped out of his reverie at the hand on his shoulder, looking up to find John standing over him.

“You okay Scott?” John tucked his hand back into his laptop strap, “I called your name a few times.”

“Yeah, sorry, was lost in my thoughts.” 

“How do you get lost in an empty room?” John snorted and sipped the coffee that was in his other hand.

Laughing, Scott stood up and embrace his brother in a quick half hug, “ah John, how I missed you.”

John hid his smile in his cup. “So, what's this thing you just had to show me?”

“Okay, no judgement and you have to hear me out.” Scott jumped in front of John stopping them both.

“Oh no, I’ve heard that one before.” 

Scott grabbed John's shoulders and turned him towards a boarded up store front. Part of a double storeyed with a few other shops either side, there was a tattered “For Sale" sign stuck to the inside of the glass door. Scott gestured expansively at the store.

“What do you think?”

John sighed, “Please do not tell me that you want to op…“

“I want to open a coffee shop,” Scott cut in, talking loudly over John, “the upstairs is fitted out as a living area and downstairs used to be a restaurant so it’s already set up for food service.”

John glared at the boarded up windows before turning his scowl on Scott. “And why did the restaurant go out of business? Did you even consider that? What makes you think that opening up another food place in the exact same spot would be profitable?”

“I did look into it,” Scott said defensively, “the restaurant was way overpriced for the area and it only opened at night. What you want is something that’s going to be open in the daytime. What with the university campus a few streets over and a train station back that way as well as the businesses that have offices in the area. It’s a no brainer. And everybody needs coffee.”

“So a coffee shop and café,” John scowled, “what does dad think?” 

“That I want to do what he wants me to do?” Scott sighed, “I haven't exactly told him about it. I don't know Johnny, he sat me down in his office and just assumed I wanted what he wanted and I don't; at least not at the moment.” When Scott looked up, the scowl was gone. 

John had his business face on.

“Who's putting up the money when dad doesn't?”

““I have money from some investments I made while I was in the Air Force. You don’t think he’ll help.” 

Scott frowned as his comment was met with a snort. 

John shot his brother a quick glance. “You haven't talked to Virgil yet have you?”

Scott rubbed at his neck. “Not in depth, no. I wanted to get on my feet first.”

“Hmm, if you don't get dad’s approval then you’ll be on your own.” John gave a small nod towards the empty shop, “I assume that you've been to the banks and have approval for the loan or you wouldn't be talking to me. I also don't think you brought me here to talk you out of it. Give me a week and I’ll get back to you.”

John was already walking off as Scott registered his words. “What? John? What?!” John merely gave his brother a small wave and pulled out his phone.

Scott threw his hands up then put them on his hips. He had no idea what John was thinking but “I’ll get back to you” had sounded like a sign of approval.

~~~

So apparently “give John a week” had meant “give John a week to enrol Scott in a business course and himself in an accounting course” Scott mused as his brother settled down across the table, rifling through a pile of papers.

“If we are going to do this we are going to do this right.” John said, pulling a smaller stack from his pile and handing over the course details, “this will be a successful business or else.”

Scott accepted the paperwork but seemed confused. “Don't you have your own uni work to do? Like, working towards your PhD and becoming an astronaut?”

John dismissed his brother's concerns with an airy wave. “I can do both. This is more important; family is more important.”

Scott wrapped his brother in an impulsive embrace. Caught off guard, John tensed before awkwardly patting his brother on the back.

“The flip side,” John said as they separated, "is that you have to employ the others, no questions asked."

“How about,” Scott countered, “I get to ask all the questions I want but will still employ them anyway?”

“Deal.” Scott shook John's hand and then they got to work.

~

An hour later, Scott was stretching out a cramp in his hand when something clicked on his brain. “What questions?” 

John blinked up at him, “What?”

Scott pointed his pen aaccordingly. You said no questions asked. What questions am I not supposed to ask?”

John opened his mouth to answer then thought better of it. He looked back at his papers and started shuffling them.

Scott sighed. “That bad huh?”

John looked up again. When he spoke, his tone was resigned. “Yes. I’m hoping that you’ll be able to make a few changes that I can’t.”

“That’s it,” Scott stood up. “Mandatory dinner for all of us; Alan included. I’m getting to the bottom of this.”

John was already flicking through his phone. “We should be able to get Alan out of school on Saturday and I’ll make sure the others are around.”

Scott rubbed his eyes and asked himself how he could leave and let these things happen. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Scott, none of this is your fault, I promise.”

Scott sighed. “Doesn’t make me feel any better.”


	2. Mandatory family dinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best way to get information out of his brothers is to lure them in with food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter stems from my brain needing reasons as to why they are all running a coffeeshop and not being the best in their respective fields. So I used Jeff's lack of communication skills as a scapegoat, sorry Jeff

~~~  
CHAPTER TWO: Mandatory family dinners  
~~~

 

True to his word John organised everyone to Scott's temporary apartment for an early Saturday dinner. They all pitched in to help Scott finish setting the places and placing the food before crowding into their seats around the too-small table. 

Scott sat at the head with John and Virgil on one side and Alan and Gordon on the other. “Thank you all for coming,” he began.

“What, to the mandatory dinner?” Gordon snarked.

Scott rolled his eyes and continued speaking, suddenly feeling more at home than he had since his return. 

“Before you pile up your plates, I have one rule. Anyone that eats anything has to tell the whole truth about anything I ask. No judgment, I just want to know. I was gone for a long time but I'm back now, so no more of these half truths you all seem to be feeding me.”

Virgil snorted before helping himself to the mashed potatoes. “I think you could ask me to kill a man and I would, for a free feed.”

“What, another one?” Gordon quipped, trading him the plate of vegetables.

“Hey! That heart attack was completely unrelated to anything I did and he's fine now.”

Scott was about to ask for the story when he noticed Alan hadn't grabbed anything, “Alan? You feeling okay?”

“I'm not hungry,” he shrugged.

Scott could tell that it was a lie. He switched intermediately to reassurance. “Alan, it's fine. You don't have to say anything if you don't want but I would like it if you ate…” 

“I don't like school.” Alan blurted.

“You don't like school? What is it about school you don't like?"

Uncomfortable with the sudden attention, Alan looked down, tugging at the ends of his sleeves.

“How are you going with studying?” John asked.

“Better,” Alan mumbled.

Scott flashed a look to John, hoping for an explanation.

“Alan couldn't keep up with the way the teachers were teaching,” John provided, “so I showed him some techniques so he can study independently.”

Scott looked back to Alan. “Have you spoken to anyone at the school about it?”

“The teachers all think I'm stupid,” Alan muttered, “and now John helped it's better but...” he trailed off, still not meeting big brother's eyes.

Scott was beginning to regret the whole night now and it had barely started. “What else?” he prompted.

Alan had gone quiet again, staring intently down at his hands. The others had slowed right down in their eating and Scott found slight comfort in the fact that this appeared to be news to them too.

Virgil's voice interrupted the silence, low and intent. “Alan,” he asked softly, "does this have anything to do with the broken arm you got a few months ago.”

Scott shot a look Virgil in disbelief, almost missing Alan’s tiny nod.

“His what?” There was a clatter as Gordon dropped his cutlery and swung round to glare at Virgil.

Even Virgil looked shocked. “Alan? You told me you tripped down a step.”

Scott wrapped an arm around Alan, pulling the boy into his lap when it was clear he was about to start crying.

“Jesus,” Virgil swore, leaning back in his seat.

“That's what they told the teacher,” Alan hiccuped through his tears, “and nobody believed me.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” John asked.

“I told dad and he said I was making up stories and to watch where I was going.” Alan was still refusing to meet their eyes.

Scott looked around the table at his brothers. Gordon was on his feet, his chair knocked over and forgotten on the floor. Virgil had his eyes closed and Scott could tell he was counting to ten. John was clenching his fork in a white knuckled grip. Scott hugged Alan a bit tighter. “If anything happens again you come straight to me or John. You tell us. We will believe you.”

Gordon released an explosive breath as he righted his chair and sat back down. “And I thought what Dad did to Virgil was bad.”

“Virgil?” Scott enquired, turning his gaze to the middle child. “You ate the food Virge,” he added when it looked as though Virgil wasn't going to say anything.

“Dad basically disowned me because I didn't want to work for him,” Virgil shrugged, “he cut me off completely.”

“He was living in his car when he finally told me,” John added.

Scott looked across to where Virgil had begun eating again in the hopes of avoiding further questions. “Spill.”

“I finished my engineering degree but I knew it wasn't what I wanted. When I enrolled in arts degree he cut me off,” Virgil sighed, “there was a fight. Something about ‘don't come back until you've got your priorities straight.’” He shrugged.

Gordon snorted. “Virgil has never done anything straight in his life.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “And you, Gordon?”

“I'm still getting money off dad until I complete my degree,” Gordon replied.

“So you've changed degrees twice now?” Virgil smiled at him, “did I get that right?”

“Three times!” Gordon declared smugly, “I just changed again.” 

John rolled his eyes. “It's a good thing you're getting decent grades. I don't think Dad will let you swap again.”

“Oh no,” Gordon shrugged, “I’ll just have to find another job to pay my own way.”

“Wait, what happened to WASP?” Scott asked.

“I applied, came first or second in every physical test. I'm no John but I know I aced the theory too,” Gordon explained, “then they turned around and said they didn't want me. I apply every three months but I haven’t heard anything.”

Scott sighed again. Now there was just one more question. “John? Why are you agreeing to do my bookkeeping instead of being an astronaut?”

“I can do both,” he hedged, suddenly reaching for the salad.

“John. I will fire you.”

“I would love to see you handle the books without me,” John glared at his brother, “and I’m not lying. I’m doing both.”

Scott glared back. “That’s not an answer and you know it. Seriously John, you should be going through training right now not holding my hand through opening a business.”

“Fine,” John put his cutlery down harder than necessary, “I love the stars and I got an opportunity to do some work at the VLT in Chile. It was all set up then it suddenly fell through. That same day I got an email from NASA saying my application had been accepted.”

Scott took a wild guess as to where this was headed. “Except that you didn’t apply at NASA.” 

“I never ended up sending an application, because I wanted the Chile position instead.” It was John’s turn not to meet his brother’s eyes. “I managed to get it out of one of the heads that they had had their funding threatened.”

“You said,” Virgil decalred, poking John in the arm, “that you weren’t going to NASA because you wanted to ‘further your education.’”

“And I do,” John said, “but our father is going to learn I’m just as stubborn as he is. I still want to get into NASA but I refuse to be manipulated.”

Scott stood. “New rule. From now on we work together as a family unit. No more lies and half-truths between us. Gordon, can you transfer your current course to this university?”

Gordon shrugged, then nodded. “I guess.”

Scott pointed a fork at him. “Do it. Don’t worry about money, I’m hiring you and Virgil to work the café.”

John rolled his eyes. “I guess he can come live with me and Virgil for now. Seeing as there is barely even room for you above the café.”

Scott sat down again in order to look his youngest brother in the eye, “Alan. I don’t know what I’m going to do but I’m going to do my best to get something done about your school. Even if I have to kidnap you.”

This last was said half jokingly, but it was enough for Alan to jump up and engulf his brother in a hug. Scott held tight as the boy buried his face in big brother’s shoulder, silently vowing to never let any of them out of his sight ever again.

“And what about you Scott?” Gordon piped up.

“What about me?” Scott frowned.

“How do you feel about Dad getting you discharged?” Virgil supplied.

“Dad didn't get me discharged. I left on my own.”

“Really?” John asked, resting his chin on steepled fingers, “you left the Air Force because you suddenly, desperately wanted to open a coffee shop?”

“No,” Scott tried again, “I was advised…”

“By whom?” Gordon enquired.

“Casey, she…”

“So, one of Dad's friends.” Virgil interrupted. Seeming satisfied, he returned his attention to his meal.

“Scott.” 

John was looking him straight in the eye. Why was John looking him in the eye? 

“Colonel Casey of the GDF. One of our father’s oldest friends. Advised you to leave the Air Force.”

“Didn't you like the Air Force?” Alan asked meekly.

“I loved the Air Force,” Scott said faintly.

The pieces fell into place. The myriad of inconsequential threads that pointed back to the puppet master. Too bad for him that the puppets were no longer dancing to his tune.

Scott looked at his brothers one by one. “That’s in the past now. It's time to move forward on our own terms.”

Gordon let out a whoop and Scott smiled at him as they all dug in. The whole room seemed to be lighter. 

John was right. This coffee shop had to be successful. There was too much riding on it to fail.

~~~

Two days later John opened his door to a very dejected Scott.

“Um, you look…” he blinked in surprise as Scott pushed past him and flopped face first on the couch.

“You look like you need a hug. I’m texting Virgil.” John got out his phone. “What happened?”

His only response was a muffled murmur from Scott and a weak flap of the folder clutched in his hand. John walked over, taking the proffered folder and flicking through its contents.

John was shocked. “Scott these are…”

“Official documents making me Alan’s legal guardian.” Scott had lifted his head just enough be audible.

John was lost for words. “How? Why? No, let’s go back to how. How did you get this from Dad?”

Scott rolled over. “I never asked for it if that’s what you’re thinking. I went and told him he needed to do something about Alan’s school. That’s it. Dad didn’t even say anything. No ‘how dare you question me’. No ‘if you think you can do better’. Nothing.”

“You’re going to have to pull him out now,” John said "there’s no way you can afford the fees.” His brain was in autopilot, still trying to process the magnitude of what was happening.

“I know. I contacted them this afternoon and worked it all out. I’m picking Alan up tomorrow,” he sighed, dragging a hand down his face, “I’m going to homeschool him I think.”

“We’ll all help out of course.” John put the folder down, realising his older brother was dangerously close to tears.

“I know why he did it John. He’s setting me up for failure. If this business flops then he can charge me legally.”

“Then we just won’t let it.” John reached out and grabbed Scott’s shoulder. “Look at me Scotty. We are going to take this as the good news it is. We are all in this together and we won’t let you fail.”

Scott smiled weakly and patted John’s arm. “Thanks, Johnny.”

John stood up. “I think we’ve moved well past hug territory and into stiff drink waters.”

Scott was still laughing when Virgil burst through the door.


	3. We are NOT calling them disaster cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month out from opening day. Scott put out the call for another mandatory family dinner, more cheerful than the last. As his brothers gathered around the counter in the unfinished cafe, Scott presented an outline of positions and general operations

~~~  
CHAPTER THREE: We are NOT calling them disaster cards  
~~~

A month out from opening day.

Scott and Alan were settled into the upstairs apartment and the shop itself was nearing completion. Gordon was just finishing up his night course and barista certifications. John was counting down the days until Gordon found his own place and he was back to keeping house with only one little brother. 

Scott put out the call for another mandatory family dinner, more cheerful than the last. As his brothers gathered around the counter in the unfinished cafe, Scott presented an outline of positions and general operations. He'd hashed it out with John beforehand but wanted to triple check with everyone about uni schedules. 

Perhaps even more importantly than schedules, he wanted to make sure everyone was happy. Nobody was going to be pressured into this family business.

Virgil was to be their chef. There were no arguments there. Gordon was still waxing lyrical about his pancakes and bemoaning the fact that they would be no more when he moved out when Scott cut him off.

“Virgil, this list of pastries and cakes you gave me is huge,” he said, pointing at the paper in question. “You won’t be able to make them all every day.”

“You won’t be able to afford to make them every day,” John supplied, “at least not at first.”

Virgil rolled his eyes at them both. “I’m not going to make them all. I was thinking of maybe six different ones per day depending on what I feel like.”

"That sounds perfect," Gordon declared, “I can pair them with flavoured coffees. And before you ask Scott, I’m not going to fail my course.”

"I didn't..."

"Ah, but you were going to," Gordon smiled, “I can fit in being your barista between coursework and still have time to spare. I managed to get most of my lectures and tutes for either the same day or late after we’ve closed. And one of my subjects is completely online so I’ll be fine.”

Scott sighed at Gordon’s flippancy but trusted him to know his limits. “John? How about you?”

“I’ve already slotted the time I need for the books into my schedule,” John shrugged.

"Of course you have."

“What about me?” Alan asked.

“You get four and a half days of homeschooling in the café,” Scott replied, “Saturdays and the other half of Gordon’s day off you’ll be working cleaning tables. You can earn some pocket money but if your grades slip I’ll stop it.”

"Fine," Alan huffed, rolling his eyes.

“So what are we calling the café?” Virgil asked, pulling out his sketchpad. "I've mocked up some designs but having a name would help."

"You 'Mocked up some designs.' Ohmygod you utter nerd. Of course you have." 

The comment earned Gordon a swat from said nerd. He ducked it easily, sticking out his tongue.

“I’ve registered the business as International Rescue," Scott said, "the international part because we are going to have coffee from all over the world and,” he caught John’s eyes, “the rescue part speaks for itself.”

John had to look away but Gordon's laugh broke the silence before it became awkward. “Coffee rescues so many people in the morning. Oh. Oh, I just had the best idea. We're having loyalty cards right?”

"Yes?" Scott's response was cautious.

"We could totally call them disaster cards. Rescues. Disasters."

"We are not calling them disaster cards. Moving right along."

Scott gave them each a number from a hat and they got to choose the theme of their numbers while Virgil drew out menu concepts as they talked.

John drew number five. "Tea selection. Because you have to have a non-coffee drink for people.” 

"Seriously?"

"Nobody asked you for your opinion Gordon."

Virgil presented his sketch with a flourish. "What is that? A tea tray? A satellite?"

"I like it."

"You would. A pair of nerds Allie. I'm living with a pair of nerds."

Thunderbird Three, Alan decided, were to be the ice drinks "with towers of whipped cream on top, like a rocket ship.”

Virgil laughed and under careful instruction drew up a Saturn style rocket with three grasping arms.

Four was the cappuccinos as picked by Gordon. “Frothy as the sea and it has a sprinkle of chocolate too. C'mon Virge, you drew Allie a rocket. Make mine a submarine.”

Thunderbird Two was Virgil’s choice and had already picked the latte.

“We can do coffee and cake deals. I’ll name the cakes things and the deals can be called Modules depending on what they pick and the size.”

“Can Module Four be the Cappuccino?”

“Sure, don’t see why not.”

“Yes! Cap and Cake, capcake!”

“Is it too late to have you fired?”

Virgil drew up a large carrier plane that had a removable middle to represent the different cake specials.

Thunderbird One was to be flat whites and takeaways.

“The first response for working people who need caffeine quickly.” 

Virgil drew another rocket with a red nose cone and four jets.

"Why?" Gordon threw his hands up in mock anger, "Why are you all obsessed with rockets? Everybody knows that submarines are way cooler."

~~~

After hours of cheerful discussion and laughter, Scott carried a sleeping Alan up to bed as the others let themselves out.

Scott sat on the edge of Alan’s bed and ran a hand through the youngest’s hair, “The rescue part speaks for itself.” Scott repeated quietly then left to get ready for bed himself. 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Module 1: Small Coffee + Dessert  
> Module 2: Large Coffee + Dessert  
> Module 3: Iced Drink + Dessert  
> Module 4: Thunderbird 4 + Dessert  
> Module 5: Small Flavoured Latte + Dessert  
> Module 6: Large Flavoured Latte + Dessert


	4. We Have a Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our first introduction to Kayo and the boys wonder what is going on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So real life ran away with us which is why this is so late.

~~~

CHAPTER FOUR: We have a situation

~~~

Opening day came and went, and the next few weeks flew by in a blur of coffee and customers. Gordon worked the front with his usual charm and International Rescue soon held host to a small group of regulars, including the couple who ran the neighbouring Stingray: Learn to Dive storefront and the two full-timers and two part-timers from Spectrum Art Supplies.

She came in one afternoon when Scott was hanging out by the register, enjoying being in the shop and not the back office, contemplating whether the paperwork really needed to be done. Gordon was finishing up an order for some frazzled looking university students when the bell over the door rang.

“Welcome to International Rescue, how can I…” Scott’s train of thought derailed completely when he saw who he was addressing.

She was older and taller (and more beautiful) than when they had last met, and Scott suddenly wasn’t sure what to do.

Gordon waved from behind the coffee machine, “Hey Kayo,” he called before elbowing Scott in the side, “charge her for a Mod Two and a Six.”

“I’m only here for a coffee Gordon,” Kayo replied. Her voice was stern, but Scott could see a small smile.

Gordon ignored her. “Scott. Charge her a Two and a Six.”

“You know Gordon,” Scott hummed, “I’m more inclined to do what the customer asks me to.”

“Tell her it's Virgil’s triple choc cake,” Gordon replied, carefully securing the lids on a pair of takeaway cups.

“Apparently I have to inform you it’s Virgil’s triple chocolate cake.” Scott deadpanned.

Kayo raised her eyebrows. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

Scott shrugged.

“Fine,” Kayo sighed, “I guess I’ll be having the cake then.”

Gordon flashed her a grin “Scott, a two and a six for the lovely lady if you please. Oh, and don’t forget to stamp her disaster cards.”

“They are not called disaster cards,” Scott muttered under his breath as he rang up the order.

“Oh I don’t know,” Kayo said, handing over the cards in question, “I quite like the name.”

Scott took Kayo's payment and stamped her two loyalty cards without further comment. He watched as she took her cake to a corner table, taking note of her position before turning his back to act like he was cleaning a bench. Strange that she would appear here now. For all he had been aware she was still living on the other side of the country with her father. There had been no recognition on her face when he’d served her, even though she’d been good friends to him and John when they were all younger. Still, that had been years ago. Perhaps she didn’t remember.

"Gordon," Scott said casually, "I hope you don't bully all of my customers like that."

"It’s not bullying," Gordon laughed, "I'm just persuading them into ordering what they already want. Take Kayo for example."

”Hmm?”.

"She comes in, orders a double espresso, spends exactly one hour reading or writing and then orders a caramel latte and a pastry on her way out which are no way for her." Gordon finished plating up the double espresso in question. "She only ever hesitates on her order if there is something chocolate in the cabinet."

Scott watched Gordon take the coffee over, making small chat with some regulars as he tidied a few tables on his way back. Gordon was good with people. He noticed things and could read them well. Perhaps Scott would need to have a chat with him for some more details later.

"Hey Gordon," Scott called from the counter, "I'm going out back to get some paperwork done since it’s not busy."

"You just want to get out of the washing up," Gordon retorted, earning a laugh from the table of old ladies.

Scott strode into the office, shutting the door and pulling out his phone.

"John? We have a situation."

~~~

(three weeks later)

Alan was running late. Sure he was only going downstairs, but the printer had run out of toner and then he had to find the spare toner and then replace the old toner. He could hear John's voice in his head telling him he should have done this last night. True, perhaps, but high scores didn't beat themselves.

Alan pulled the door locked behind him and practically flew down the stairs.

"You're late," Virgil called out as he rushed through the kitchen.

"I know I know," Alan yelled.

Alan made it out to the main counter then skidded to a stop when he saw HER sitting at his usual table.

"You're late, squirt," Scott chided fondly from behind the register.

Alan whipped his head around. "She’s in my spot! Scott, tell her to get out of my spot."

Scott looked puzzled, "who?"

"Kayo,” Alan hissed, coming closer to his brother, “she's in my seat."

"Sorry Alan, no can do."

“I… what?!” Alan tried another approach. "Gordon! Help me out here."

Gordon smirked whilst cleaning the coffee machine, "No can do little bro. She's the paying customer, not you."

”But everyone knows it's my spot,” Alan whined, “It doesn't even have a good view of the street or anything."

"Cheer up Al," Gordon replied, "she's been here for thirty-eight minutes already, so she's only going to be another twenty-two."

"Hey Alan," Virgil said, emerging from the kitchen with a plate of toast. "I've got your breakfast."

"Virgil, please, please, please tell Kayo to move." Alan pleaded.

"Okay one, you know she can probably hear you right?" Virgil looked over, "and two she's a regular, so no go on the whole ‘asking her to move’ front."

"Yeah, sorry Alan. She got her disaster card stamped twice in a month, so she's official." Gordon was now leaning his elbows on the counter, not looking sorry at all.

"But she gets coffee for two people," Alan groaned, "that shouldn't count."

"We didn't count it," Gordon smiled, "she gets two different cards stamped."

Scott looked confused. "What are you talking about?”

Virgil shrugged. "If you fully stamp out your disaster card twice in a month you become an official regular."

"Different rules apply," Gordon added.

"Since when?" Scott asked.

"What, maybe two months ago?" Gordon looked at Virgil, who nodded in confirmation.

“Okay, staff meeting, right now.” Scott put his hands on his hips. “And we agreed to stop calling them disaster cards!”

“You agreed.” Virgil snorted.

“Yeah bro, that ship has sailed,” Gordon said, patting Scott on the back in mock sympathy.

The bell above the door rang, and they all looked over to see John walk in.

“John, back me up here,” Scott started.

“If this is about the disaster cards again, then no,” John replied, barely looking up from his phone, “Just let it go Scott.”

Scott threw his hands in the air. “This is a mutiny.”

Alan ignored his oldest brother’s melodrama. “John. John, go tell Kayo to move out of my spot.”

“Why don’t you just go sit next to her?”

“What?!”

“I mean, there’s plenty of room at the table, and there are no other seats right now. Solves your problem doesn’t it?” John put his phone away, “Scott, I have some forms I need you to look over for me out the back.”

“Gordon, you okay if I disappear for a bit?” Scott asked.

Gordon waved him off, “Yeah, I’ll just call Virgil out if needed.”

Alan watched Scott and John move disappear into the back office then squared his shoulders. Putting his headphones up on and turning them up as loud as he could stand, he scooped up his pile of school books and stalked over to his usual table. Setting the books down with a thud, he sat down, pointedly ignoring Kayo.

Alan doesn’t hear the sound of Virgil setting the plate down but shoves off the hand that tries to ruffle his hair. Kayo watches the exchange over the top of her book. This earns her a glare from Alan, who scowls furiously before opening his math booklet.

In the back room, Scott looks over the papers John has handed to him, sets them down. “Should we do something?”

John frowns, “I’m sorry? Is there a mistake?”

Scott sets the paperwork aside. “No, not the paperwork. Kayo. You did find out who she’s working for.”

John shrugged. “We can’t do anything until we know exactly what she’s doing. She could simply be here for the coffee.”

Scott snorted. “Our coffee is not that good.”

“Perhaps it’s the pastries then,” John said. “Who knows? But until she shows her hand…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scott sighed and sat down.

“Besides, I’ve already put a plan into motion that should get her on our side if need be.” John picked up the abandoned papers before sitting himself on the corner of Scott’s desk.

“What plan?”

“I sic’d Alan onto her,” John smirked, “if she can resist his charms then there is no hope.”

“Charms?” Scott laughed, “He’s going to be like a grumpy hamster for the next two weeks.”

“Exactly.” John said, pointing at Scott with the bundle of papers. “And that is going to bring out her competitive nature.”

“Ah, I see where this is going,” Scott mused, resting his chin onto his hand. “They’re either going to end up the best of friends or the worst of enemies.”

“With the rest of us to help them along let’s hope for the first one.”

“Should we tell Virgil and Gordon about this?”

“No,” John said, “it’s better if we don’t. There’s no need to stress them out. They haven’t recognised her, and the whole situation will be more realistic if they don’t find out.”

“Fair enough.” Scott nodded and stood up. “Okay, we’ll keep an eye on it from the sidelines and see where it gets us later on.”

John waved the papers at him as he turned to leave. “Sit back down; you do actually have to fill these out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This long time has given me some time to work out what Jeff was doing and I've chilled about my hate for him but that is for a later chapter


	5. Chalkboard Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott sighed, pinched his nose and told himself to breathe. 
> 
> It was a week out from opening, so there was a lot of stresses.

Scott sighed, pinched his nose and told himself to breathe. 

It was a week out from opening, so there was a lot of stresses. One of Scott's stresses was that Virgil wasn't going to stick to a set menu. Scott could have murdered him if it wasn't exactly what Virgil has always done, his own thing. 

The main stress was solved when someone brought up the idea for a chalkboard. Virgil could update it every day with no hassle and John agreed that it saved on printing menus. 

The chalkboard was a great idea but what was in front of Scott was not a chalkboard.

“Virgil,” Scott gritted out, “what is this?”

Virgil stood beside him and shrugged, “it's a wall.”

“Virgil I asked for a chalkboard!” Scott waved his hand, “this is…”

“A wall painted with chalkboard paint.” Virgil supplied.

All Scott could manage was an exasperated “why?”

“Why not?”

The man of few words routine was not what Scott needed right now, “Virgil, what are we going to do with the entire wall of chalkboard?”

“Draw on it,” Virgil stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Scott counted to ten and then let out a deep breath, “okay fine, you're in charge of the wall. Keep it clean, tidy and PG-13, and we’ll be fine.”

Virgil patted Scott on the back and moved into the kitchen to continue organising. Scott was going to have greys before he was 30 he just knew it.

~~~

The wall turned out to be a big hit. There were three permanent squares that no one touched.

The squares were the menu which was updated by Virgil in the morning. 

The quote of the day which was written by Virgil but supplied by John; though they traded off between quotes and brain teasers. 

The last square was customer-made; it was a poll of Virgil's most popular treats. Scott pointed out that maybe once a month Virgil should make the top 6 for them; it worked, and people loved voting.

The rest of the space was free for all, and it took Virgil's art buddies from uni all of 3 days to cover the space. One of then bought a step-ladder to get up to the top.

Scott was worried about fighting over space, but people were quite laid back about it all. Everyone seemed to share the space and know what the oldest to erase instead of the newer stuff. 

It wasn't just the artists either; all the different students from the university seemed to use it. Three heads puzzling over an equation they couldn't work out. A thesaurus of words from book and essay writers alike. One biology student in the middle of finals drew a giant crosscut of an E. Coli bacteria before breaking down crying.

All Scott could say was he was grateful it wasn't Gordon’s idea because he would have never heard the end of it.

~~~


	6. Better Than Tracy's?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George gestured over her, desperate to get their attention, “I found this really awesome café! Like, really awesome.”
> 
> “Just how awesome is awesome?” Poh laughed.
> 
> “Like,” George frowned in thought, “their pastries are better than Tracy’s.”

Virgil was out with some friends from his engineering days. He didn't go out much because starting at 4 am was a killer on the social life, so he was determined to enjoy it.

“So hey,” a drunk George blanketed himself over Virgil and Dan, “we should go for coffee tomorrow.”

Poh peeled George off them, “sorry boys, lost sight of him for one moment.”

Virgil laughed and helped Poh move George to the stool next to him, “it's no problem.”

“We should,” Dan said, “Go for coffee I mean. We don't catch up as much anymore.”

Poh smiled and said, as George cuddled into her, “all part of Growing up and growing old.” 

“No, no but guys,” George gestured over her, desperate to get their attention, “I found this really awesome café! Like, really awesome.”

“Just how awesome is awesome?” Poh laughed.

“Like,” George frowned in thought, “their pastries are better than Tracy’s.”

Dan, Poh, and Virgil all oohed in disbelief together before laughing.

“No way does a café have better pastries than Tracy.” Dan swatted at George, “How drunk are you?”

“Well I'm in,” Virgil finished his drink, “I want to go find these pastries better than me, I get off at 10.”

“I’ll text you the place,” George pointed at him.

“I'm in too,” Poh agreed, “though I want to know why you've been holding out on me.”

Virgil excused himself for the night, leaving George at the mercy of his girlfriend.

The next day Virgil worked hard to get everything done so he could leave a bit early. He finished with 10 minutes to spare, so he quickly got changed and packed up.

He opened his phone and came out to the front, “Scott I'm off, I'll see you-“

“Tracy!” Virgil blinked up at the cry to see Dan, Poh, and George in the door.

George lightly punched him in the arm, “you got off early. So what do you think?”

Virgil was confused, “think of what?”

“Give him some space George,” Poh laughed, “he's still in his gear, he must have only just got here.”

Virgil heard a snort from behind him, but before he could say anything Dan chimed in from the display cabinet, “Hey Tracy, this guy does the same swirl on his moose as you.”

“Wait, this is the place?” Virgil pointed at the ground.

“Yeah,” George pulled Virgil towards the display cabinet as well, “hey, they have the blueberry muffins today, they are my favourite.”

“Better than Tracy’s?” Poh looked on tippy toes over their shoulders.

There was a loud laugh that turned into a quick cough and Virgil looked up to Gordon holding his hand over his mouth and Scott grinning ear to ear.

“Are you ready to order?” Scott asked calmly.

“Yeah,” George stepped up to the register, “Um, a Mod 2 with the blueberry muffin please.”

“I still don't see how they are better than Tracy’s,” Dan said as he stepped in line.

“They aren't better than mine,” Virgil was trying to hold in a laugh, now he wrapped his head around what had happened.

“How do you know?” Poh asked, “you've been here before?”

“Guys I work here,” Virgil gestured to the display, “they aren't better than mine because they are mine.”

“Get off,” George finished paying.

Poh hit Virgil, “you work here, and you didn't tell us?

Dan laughed, “See George, I told you there was no one better than Tracy.”


	7. Anderson Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam co-owned Spectrum: Art Supplies, with his partner Paul. They got the nicknames Blue and Scarlet respectively from various customers having fun with their ex-Military natures. They are retired Air-Force and Army members of the armed forces respectively; both discharged on medical grounds. They also have two part-timers, twins, Seymour and Serena Griffiths-Lewis. They both, confusingly, go by the code name Green and joined Phones and John in the street’s Central Intelligent Network.
> 
> Stingray is a diving shop that is situated two doors down from International Reuse and next to Spectrum. The diving shop owned by ex-W.A.S.P Troy Tempest, George ‘Phones’ Sheridan and Troy’s Partner Marina.

~~~

Adam co-owned Spectrum: Art Supplies, with his partner Paul. They got the nicknames Blue and Scarlet respectively from various customers having fun with their ex-Military natures. They are retired Air-Force and Army members of the armed forces respectively; both discharged on medical grounds. They also have two part-timers, twins, Seymour and Serena Griffiths-Lewis. They both, confusingly, go by the code name Green and joined Phones and John in the street’s Central Intelligent Network.

Stingray is a diving shop that is situated two doors down from International Reuse and next to Spectrum. The diving shop owned by ex-W.A.S.P Troy Tempest, George ‘Phones’ Sheridan and Troy’s Partner Marina.

~~~

Adam’s turn to buy coffee was Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. Due to the knee injury that had him discharged, Adam moved around a bit slower, so he took that time to notice things. Like the young kid that was doing homework on weekdays and cleaning tables on the weekend.

It was a Monday when he first sat down next to the boy. His knee was stiff, and he didn’t need to head back for a few minutes, so Adam moved to the back of the store and sat.

After a few minutes of staring into space and quietly getting his breath back, Adam heard a cry of distress. The sound of a pencil hit the floor, and Adam looked down to find it had rolled next to his foot.

Adam picked it up and turned to the source, “Hey, I think this is yours.”

The boy gave him a small smile, “Thanks, sorry to bother you.”

“No problem,” Adam smiled back and set down the pencil, “may I ask you what caused you to throw a perfectly good 2B on the floor.”

The kid looked down shyly at his paper but didn’t respond.

“Oh,” Adam mentally cursed himself, “my name is Adam; I work at the art store.”

“Alan,” Alan pushed the papers in front of him, “It’s just a stupid problem.”

“Can I help?” Adam held out his hand, “I’m not bad at math.”

Alan reluctantly handed over the paper, and Adam ran his eyes over it, “Here we go, you missed a three here.”

Alan took back the papers and started correcting his mistake. Adam smiled as he took a sip of his coffee then decided he had probably been sitting long enough. He steadied his cane to get ready to stand. 

Before he could move, he heard a quiet voice, “thanks.”

He looked over at Alan, “huh? No problem, sometimes it takes another set of eyes.”

“It’s just I’m normally good at math,” Alan sighed, “but I just can’t understand this stuff.”

“Ah,” Adam nodded, “that is your first mistake then.”

It was Alan’s turn to look puzzled, “what do you mean?”

“You don’t have to understand math to do Math.” Adam rested both hands on his cane, “just work the formula each time and the answer will turn out. That’s why the formula is there; all you have to do is put the numbers in their places. The formula takes care of the rest.”

“But I don’t understand the formula,” Alan whined.

“But you followed it here right?” Adam pointed to the paper, “and you got the answer right?”

Alan nodded.

“There you go,” Adam smiled, “just keep working the formula and you might one day understand it. If you never understand it then it will still work; it won’t change or go away.”

Alan sighed, “really?”

“Okay, take Pythagoras for example.” Adam picked up the pencil and drew perfect straight lines, “this side is four, and this side is three so what is the hypotenuse?” 

“It’s 5.” Alan squinted at the triangle.

“How do you know that?” Adam pressed.

“You know,” Alan shrugged, “with Pythagoras’ theorem.” 

“Did you understand that the first time you used it?” Adam put down the pencil.

Alan just looked at the triangle then back at his work.

“Just keep working the formula,” Alan muttered and straightened out his work to try the next problem.

Adam smiled proudly at Alan and again moved to get up.

“Oh hey, Adam?” Alan looked at him with pleading eyes, “I mean, if you’re not busy or anything, could you stay? For a bit at least? Just in case I need another hand.”

Adam opened his mouth then shut it, “sure, I can stay a bit longer.”

What the hell, Adam could work through his lunch break if needed and besides, Paul was always telling Adam he needed to get out more and meet more people. 

~~~

Alan frowned at his problem then looked up at Adam to find an empty seat. He looked at the clock and saw the Adam should have been in by now. Come to think of it; Alan hadn't seen his friend for a few weeks.

Alan moved towards the counter where Gordon and Virgil were serving. Scott was at some meeting, but Gordon would know, “Hey Gordon, have you seen Adam?”

“Today?” Gordon asked before calling out the coffee just finished, “not yet.”

Alan moved around, so he was out of the way of the customers, “recently? Is he okay? I don't remember seeing him.”

“Yeah he’s fine,” Gordon finished off the last coffee in the rush.

“But he hasn't been sitting down with me,” Alan frowned, “do you think I did something wrong?”

“Um,” Virgil was leaning on the counter looking sheepish.

“What did you do? Gordon turned to face both his brothers and gave Virgil a pointed look.

“Nothing much,” Virgil exclaimed, “I just talked to him.”

Alan buried his face in his hands, “Oh my god you didn't.”

“Virgil,” Gordon pointed at him, “now, this is important, what were your exact words?”

Virgil looked at the floor, “Um ‘Alan has been through a lot so don't go causing problems’ I think.”

“What on earth?” Gordon said in disbelief. Even Alan looked up in shock.

“it was so that he knew…” Virgil tried to find his words under the stares, “I mean, I just.”

“You threatened him?” Alan punched him.

Virgil flinched back, “I didn't threaten him at all.”

“Okay, I see what happen here. Alan stop,” Gordon snorted as he got between the two, “Virgil didn't mean it like that. Virgil, explain to Alan what you meant.”

Alan crossed his arms as Virgil rubbed the back of his head, “I just meant that, as he was becoming good friends with you, he should avoid causing problems for you. You go hurt before; I just wanted to avoid you getting hurt again.”

“You big idiot,” Alan moved and hugged Virgil tight. Virgil returned the hug and rested his head on top of Alan’s.

Gordon smiled at them, “while I'm proud of you Virgil, you could have chosen better wording.”

Virgil looked up, “what do you mean?”

Alan broke the hug to look at Virgil’s face, “what do you mean ‘what do you mean’? You threatened him.”

“But I didn't,” Virgil insisted.

“You didn't mean to, but you did,” Gordon elaborated, “you have to consider what Adam is seeing. Virgil, you have five facial piercings and a short green Mohawk. If you went in after work, then you were wearing a scarf and your leather jacket that makes you look twice as big, which is impressive because you are already built like a brick house. I wouldn't like to meet you in a dark alley, and I'm your brother.”

Alan giggled a bit, “You look like a biker Virge.”

Virgil looked down and considered himself which caused both his younger brothers to laugh, “so I'm guessing you think he took it as a threat.”

“I'm not guessing Virge,” Gordon gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder, “what you said, looking like you do, that was nothing but a big ‘back off’.”

Virgil smiled at them, “I guess I owe him an apology.”

“Owe who an apology?”

The three spun around to look at the voice; it was Adam. They had been too distracted to notice the bell above the door ring.

“Oh thank god you aren't Phones,” Gordon placed his hand on his chest in relief, “look we can not have this get back to John or Scott okay? This stays between us.”

Adam raised an eyebrow as he looked around at the crowd of people in the café that could have heard as well. He moved closer to the counter to lean on it, “okay then.”

Alan nudged Virgil's side, “go on.”

“So,” Virgil took a breath, “I’m sorry that I threatened you, Adam. I've been informed that I choose my words poorly and therefore would have come across differently than how I meant them.”

“That's an understatement,” Gordon muttered under his breath.

Virgil pushed Gordon, “so yeah, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to threaten you-”

“I was bullied at my old school,” Alan supplied to the surprise of his brothers, “Virgil was just looking out for me.”

“Virgil is a giant teddy that doesn't realise he looks likes a grizzly bear.” Gordon also supplied.

Adam looked at them all and gave them each a smile, “if that was the case then I accept.”

Virgil let out a sigh, and Alan jumped in excitement. Gordon grinned at turned to the coffee machine, “Paul swung by at opening to pay for the coffees today.”

Adam sighed, “that bastard knew it was my turn to pay.”

“So you can sit by me again,” Alan grinned.

“Not today sorry,” Adam smiled fondly, “Paul is at that meeting, and the twins are busy with uni until late; I'm by myself in the store today.”

Alan frowned then moved back to his table as Virgil said, “you're by yourself? Why didn't you call? We could have run it over.”

Adam shrugged, “I needed the walk.”

“Well next time,” Gordon put Adam’s coffee in front of him, “call so we can have it ready for you at the very least.”

Adam gave a fake salute then picked up his cup, “will do sir.”

“See Virge,” Gordon lent on the counter and looked up at him, “someone around here is giving me the respect I deserve.”

“He is just distracting you from the fact he doesn't have his cane,” Virgil grinned.

“What?” Gordon stood up to look. Adam should get charged an extra 20% when he comes in without his cane. Especially if he says, he’s having one of his good days because that means he’s used his leg too long. Adam called it mother-henning, everyone else called it common sense.

Adam looked at his watch, “well I've left the store unmanned for too long. I better had been getting back.”

“Wait,” Alan called then rushed up. He had his backpack over his shoulder and some loose papers in his arms, “Okay I'm ready. Let's go.”

“Um, Alan?” Virgil started.

Gordon cut him off, “we need you back at 12 to cover the lunch run. Virgil has to go then, and John's not getting in till 2.”

“Okay,” Alan nodded at them.

Adam held the door open for Alan, “so how have you been? I see you've been making friends with the girl in the corner.”

“Oh Kayo, yeah she's-”

The door had closed before Gordon and Virgil heard the answer


	8. Fish Hate His Guts

Troy and Marina, along with Phones, own and run the Stingray Diving School on the other side. Troy and Phones are both retired WASP and met Marina on their travels. She was born mute and communicates in ASL.

~~~

“Really?” Gordon leaned on the table and cradled his chin in his palm, “even flake?”

He was sitting with Troy, Phones and Marina as they were having a late afternoon coffee.

“Salmon, trout, even tuna,” Troy leaned back in his chair, “can’t eat ‘em without feeling sick.”

Marina signed at Gordon and Troy groaned, “don’t tell him about that.”

“Oh yeah,” Phones laughed, “there was vomit all over the Admiral.”

“So yes,” Troy waved at his laughing friend, “I’m allergic to fish. Not anaphylactic but all fish hate my guts.” 

“ _Nausea and vomiting for days_ ,” Marina signed.

“You can’t spell nausea without the sea,” Phones commented before sipping his drink.

“One, that was not funny the first time,” Troy lifted up his fingers, “and two, it’s not the sea, it’s just the stuff in it.”

“So what about crustaceans?” Gordon put his hand down to hold it in front of him, “can you eat those?”

Troy leaned forward to grab his drink, “Sure but once you’ve lost your stomach to one creature of the sea you tend to avoid the rest.”

Gordon nodded, “That seems fair.”

“I also can’t go out much,” Troy sighed, “if my food has been into contact with a surface or pan that has had fish in it I can still end up feeling sick.”

“It’s a good thing you married Marina then Troy,” Phones remarked, “You would starve otherwise.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Marina sighed in agreement.

“Hey,” Troy exclaimed in protest, “I can make a mean curry.”

“Your last curry was so mean it insulted my mother,” Phones said.

“Gordon Cooper,” Gordon quickly put his head up to see Scott standing at the register, “What are you doing sitting? You are meant to be working.” 

“I am working,” Gordon crossed his arms, “it’s call customer relations.”

“Gordon,” Scott exhaled, “I’m not paying you to sit around talking. What if someone came in?”

“I’m facing the door, so I would see,” Gordon rolled his eyes at Marina and got up, “I’ve got twenty minutes then I’m shutting down the machine.”

Marina smiled fondly at him and waved Gordon off as he moved back behind the counter.

“Ah come on Scott,” Troy called, “let the kid have some fun.”

Scott glared at Troy, “he can have fun in half an hour when his shift ends.” 

Scott then spoiled his tough guy act by ruffling Gordon’s hair.


	9. This Chapter is Adequate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena finishes her text and looks up, “those two have a history?”
> 
> Scott snorted, “oh yeah, they’ve had a thing since they were kids. The regular?”
> 
> “Yes please,” Serena hands over her money, “a thing?”
> 
> Scott rings up the sale and starts on the coffee, “yep, a Thing with a capital T. So how much did you see?”

Gordon was cleaning the counter. Scott was in his office, and Alan was playing games in the corner with Kayo. There were a few people scattered about but none that needed his attention just then.

The bell above the door rang, and he turned to see who it was. Gordon narrowed his eye; it was Penny; someone who he hadn’t heard from for a while.

“Lady P,” Gordon put on his fake grin, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lady Penelope was looking around the store, “well isn’t this… quint.”

Gordon rolled his eyes, “I’m sorry it’s not a five-star resort you Ladyship.”

Gordon knew Penny was looking over his shoulder to where the food safety rating certificates were hanging. She could look all she wanted because the Tracy’s kept an A grade standard, so there was nothing to fault.

“Is there anything I can get you?” if she was going to stand around judging him then she might as well buy something, “I do make the best coffee in the city.”

“A latte I suppose since it’s the best.” Penny looked disinterested, “take away though I’m off to an important meeting. I’m here for a few weeks on business.”

Gordon moved straight to the machine, “coming right up and since you are such a good friend I’ll give it to you on-the-house.”

Gordon snuck glances at Penny from the corner of his eye. He had kept tabs on her in the media, but a photo never does the real thing justice.

“Still single?” Gordon asked casually as he heated the milk.

“Haven’t you read the Herold,” Penny asked, “I’m dating Michael Burswood.”

Gordon snorted, “I saw that article, and you are dating him just as much as I am.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, he’s totally not your type.”

“And you knew what my type is?”

“Yeah,” Gordon faltered, “and it’s not him.”

Gordon set the cup down as a distraction and put a left pattern in the top, “there you go, one latte.”

Penny took a small sip then put the lid on, “this is the best in the city?”

Gordon took offence to her tone as it suggested the opposite, “yeah, this café has a 4.6-star rating on Tripadvisor.”

Penny looked the cup then looked at him, “well, this must be why you don’t have the other point 4; this coffee is adequate, to say the least.”

“Adequate?” Gordon straightens, “Adequate.”

“Quite,” Penny turned to leave, “now I must dash, it’s not very ladylike to be late.”

“What?” Gordon called as she walked out of the door. He shared a look with Serena who had been behind Penny, “No way, my coffee is not just adequate.”

Serena gave a small smile and shrugged when Scott came out, “What is all that noise.”

Scott had finished his paperwork so had just come out in time to find Gordon making a fuss.

“She said my coffee is adequate Scott,” Gordon exclaimed.

“Who?” Scott looked confused, “Serena?”

“No!” Gordon yelled, “Penny. She just waltzed in here and called my coffee adequate.”

Scott looked up at the sky and sighed, “oh, okay.”

“Okay?” Gordon looked betrayed, “I’m the best barista here. Everyone loves my coffee, and she just turned her nose up.”

“Yes, yes, you are the best,” Scott smiled; no one could say the Tracys weren’t prone to melodrama, “I just remembered Virgil has some dishes that need cleaning, can you pop out the back and do though for him.”

With a grab of the shoulders and a shove in the right direction, Scott gets Gordon moving who is still mumbling. 

Scott turns to Serena, “sorry about that.”

“That’s no problem,” Serena finishes her text and looks up, “those two have a history?”

Scott snorted, “oh yeah, they’ve had a thing since they were kids. The regular?”

“Yes please,” Serena hands over her money, “a thing?”

Scott rings up the sale and starts on the coffee, “yep, a Thing with a capital T. So how much did you see?”

“Pretty much all of it,” Serena said, “it was kinda adorable, he didn’t even realise I was there.”

“Hey Kayo,” Scott called out.

Kayo looked up from her notebook, “Yeah?”

“What’s Penny’s schedule like?” Scott finished up the coffee and handed it over to Serena.

“Sorry, what?” Kayo stood up and came over.

“Penny’s schedule,” Scott repeated, “if this is going to be a repeat of the 7th grade school holidays that means I’m going to lose Gordon for a good half hour every time Penny comes in. So I need to know what type of schedule she has.”

Kayo narrowed her eyes at him, “and what makes you think I know her schedule.”

“The only person Penny would be in town to see is Jeff Tracy,” Scott countered, “who you work for, as security, therefore you might have some idea.”

“Disclosing her movements would be a breach of security Scott,”

“I’m not about to assassinate my brother’s crush if that’s what you’re getting at,” Scott smiled despite himself, “I just need to know when I have to cover for him or could you, at least, let her know not to come during rush hour.”

Kayo glares a bit longer, but Scott holds his ground. After a few moments, she sighs, “fine, I’ll find out but only when she might visit, nothing else.”

“That is all I care about,” Scott laughed, “Thank you Kayo.”

Kayo went back to her seat, collected her things and then left with a short goodbye to Alan.

“So a thing,” Serena said into her coffee. She had moved just enough to get her coffee but had stayed for the drama.

Scott went to reply, but his phone started ringing. He would normally ignore it when he was with a customer, but it was John’s ringtone. 

“Hey John,” Scott answered, “Penny? Yes, I know... Yeah well… How did you… live-blogged?” 

Scott glared at Serena who had her best innocent face on, but Scott saw right through it.

“Yep… no, it’s fine I have him doing dishes… yeah okay, bye,” Scott hung up of John and looked back at Serena.

“Is that the time,” Serena looked at her wrist which had nothing on it, “I have to start work. Okay, bye Scott.”

Scott sighed fondly at her retreating back. Trust her to let her brother, John and Phones know about Gordon and Penny as it was happening. Those four kept the rumour mill turning at the very least.

“You know she’s right,” Scott turned to see Gordon.

“Who’s right?”

“Penny,” Gordon started pacing, “I’ve been coasting along. I haven’t been pushing myself to be better. Scott, I need to change the beans.”

The crazy-eyed look that Gordon was giving Scott was worrying, “um, if you can get John to sign off on the budget then okay.”

Gordon nodded, “yes, okay, if I can get the ratios just right…”

“Hey,” Scott interrupted, “did you finish those dishes?”

Gordon walked back to the kitchen and kept mumbling. Scott sighed, he hoped Kayo could come through for him cause this was going to be a long few weeks if not.

~~~

In a week, Scott watched Gordon's coffee go from adequate to fine and saw a lot of dishes get washed. It was Gordon's day off today, so Scott had Alan cleaning tables while he manned the counter.

The bell above the door rang, and Scott looked up and smiled, “Penelope, how are you today?”

“I’m well thank you, Scott,” Penny looked around the store, “is Gordon in?”

“Sorry,” Scott held back a grin, “it's his day off. Can I help you with anything?”

Penny glanced around again, “no that's quite alright. I should be going.”

“Have a good day,” Scott waited till Penny had left to smile. He should let Gordon know. No, he shouldn't, this was too much fun.

“What was all that about?” Alan came up.

Scott shrugged, “I think you're a bit young to know.”

“I'm not young,” Alan rolls his eyes, “I know they like like each other, but she complains about the coffee all the time why didn't she try it when Gordon's not making it?”

“I think the Lady does protest too much,” Scott laughed.

Alan rolled his eyes again and mumbled ‘grownups’ under his breath.

The bell rang again, and Phones walked in, “hey guys.”

“Phones,” Scott said, “I'm glad you're here. You saved me a few text messages.” 

Phones whipped out his phone at lightning speed, “tell me the news.”


End file.
